Josephine (14 page)

He nodded. “Sure am.”

Bert, patently ignoring his cousin, asked Jo, “Did you have a chance to deliver my message?”

“I did.”

He nodded. “Then, I’m off.”

Jo wondered if he meant he was going after Dred. “Bert, wait—”

But he drove away.

Adam asked, “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” she lied, then asked with a false cheeriness, “Are we ready to go?”

George drove. Jo sat beside him while Belle, Adam and Libby sat on big hay bales in the bed.

Jo heard Libby say to Adam, “Thanks again for escorting me.”

Then she heard Adam reply, “Again, you’re welcome.”

“What do you do, Adam?” Libby then asked.

“Right now, not much of anything. I just got discharged from the war. Once the Union Army gets everything settled down South, I’ll decide.”

“But how do you live without a means of income?” she asked innocently.

Jo turned so she could see Adam’s face. He looked at Jo for a moment, then replied to Libby, “I have some funds at my disposal.”

“It must be quite a sum.”

Adam asked a bit coolly, “What makes you assume that?”

“Oh, the quality of your clothes, the way you carry yourself. I’m betting you’re a very wealthy man, Adam Morgan.”

“And that pleases you?”

“Of course, silly. Every lady wants to be on the arm of a well-to-do gentleman.”

“I see.”

Jo was pleased. Now maybe Adam would realize the flower he’d picked was really a stinkweed.

When Jo and her party finally reached the big field behind Mrs. Oswald’s house there were vehicles and conveyances everywhere. In deference to Adam’s limited walking abilities, George let Libby and Adam off by the festivities, then drove on to find a place to park. Jo had been correct; everyone in town seemed to be in attendance. Most of the attendees were young women, and many had their mamas in tow. Once again, Jo gave thanks for having Belle as a sister-in-law who could play chaperone. Not that Jo didn’t love her mother, but Belle was younger and a whole lot more fun.

After leaving the buggy behind, Jo, Belle and George walked the short distance through a small stand of trees back to the grassy field where the main gathering was being held. As they entered the cleared glade, Jo spotted little girls jumping rope while their brothers and male cousins played marbles in the dust. She smiled at a group of adolescents squealing with laughter as they attempted to pull taffy that wouldn’t cooperate on such a warm, humid day. One of the local farmers was giving pony rides to some of the toddlers in attendance. The soldiers were interspersed among the crowd, as well. The ones who were ambulatory were standing in groups talking to the ladies dressed in their Sunday best, while the men in casts and wheelchairs were waited upon hand and foot by everyone who passed them by. Jo was glad to see such a large turnout. The Dred Reed affair had made many of the townspeople wary of visiting with the men; that seemed to have changed.

Belle surveyed the large crowd and remarked, “This is wonderful. Look at all the people.”

George nodded. “Glad folks figured out we soldiers are not all Dred Reeds.”

Jo noticed Adam and Libby a few yards away talking animatedly with a small group of people Jo knew from school and church. Someone had fetched Adam a chair and he was seated while Libby hovered close beside him. When Libby glanced up and saw Jo watching, Libby’s eyes glowed with such catty triumph, Jo turned away. “George, how about we find some punch?”

He held out his arm and she hooked it with her own.

“You two go on,” Belle told them. “I’ll see you later. There are a few of my friends I wish to speak with.”

Neither Jo nor George argued, so Belle went one way and they went another.

In spite of the decision Jo had made about her future with George, she had a wonderful time with him. They ate sandwiches, drank punch and topped it all off with bowls of cold vanilla ice cream. He talked about his childhood and she told him what it was like being the little sister. “Oh, they treated me badly every now and again, tying me up, scaring me with snakes and things, but all in all, Dani and the Morgans were good big brothers to me.”

George spooned up the last of his ice cream. “Well, I’m glad Libby came along to be with Adam. Keeps him out of our hair.”

“Yes, it does,” Jo agreed, even though she couldn’t seem to stop herself from looking for Adam whenever she thought George wouldn’t notice. Why she was so concerned about Adam’s whereabouts and what he might be doing was beyond her, or at least that’s what she told herself.

At half past two o’clock, everyone gathered in a corner of the field to marvel at the afternoon’s main attraction: a man with a hot air balloon. He was a French Canadian named Maxwell Bordeaux and he made his living giving rides in his balloons at fairs, church picnics and any other outdoor gathering. Men were charged two cents to go up in the balloon; ladies rode for free.

“I want to go up,” Jo told George excitedly, but he looked skeptical.

Mr. Bordeaux and his two male helpers were in the process of unfolding the yards and yards of material that made up the balloon.

“I don’t know, Josephine. It looks to be dangerous.” George voiced his doubt.

“So is crossing the road sometimes, George, but that doesn’t make you hide out in your house.”

The balloon was soon unfolded and the largest wicker basket anyone in Whittaker had ever seen was taken off the back of a wagon and set nearby. Jo thought it could easily hold two or three people. “Come on, George, please? Say you’ll go up with me?”

While the helpers continued to work, the townspeople ringing the men tossed out questions to Mr. Bordeaux. “Is it dangerous?” one of the soldiers asked.

Mr. Bordeaux, who appeared to be in his middle years but still had a full head of jet-black hair, nodded. “It can be. One of the first men to ride was also the first man to die. His name was Pilatre de Rozier—but that was a long time ago. Mademoiselle, would you and your gentleman like to see the countryside as the birds do?”

Jo said eagerly, “I would.”

George’s reluctance was quite apparent, so much so that the crowd laughed good-naturedly. A male voice called out, “I don’t blame you, George. Not even a girl as pretty as Miss Josephine could get me up in one of those contraptions.”

The spectators continued to watch and marvel as the edges of the big red and white balloon were fastened to the basket with stout hooks and even stouter ropes. Mr. Bordeaux explained that the fire in the burner would fill the balloon with hot air and give it the buoyancy needed to rise and sail on the wind currents. He relayed to everyone that the first hot air balloon had been made in France, in 1783, by two brothers named Montgolfier. “Their first passengers were a sheep, a duck and a chicken.”

Everyone laughed with disbelief, but Mr. Bordeaux swore the story was true.

Jo could see Adam and Libby among the curious crowd. To Jo it appeared as if Adam was trying to persuade Libby to go up with him, but Libby was shaking her head vehemently. He appeared frustrated and looked up just in time to see Jo watching them. He gave her a wave and a smile, then hobbled on his stick toward where she stood with George. Libby hastened to catch up to him.

When Adam reached Jo’s side, he ignored the slight face George made and said to her, “Pretty exciting, don’t you think?”

“I do.”

The hot air was beginning to fill the balloon. It was now wavering upright and getting fatter. Thick ropes threaded around fat wooden stakes anchored the wicker basket to the ground.

Adam said, “Libby won’t go up with me.”

Jo confessed, “George turned me down, as well.”

Adam grinned. “Then how about we go? The two of us.”

Jo’s eyes widened like a child’s. “Really?”

Belle walked up.

Jo said excitedly, “Adam and I are going up in the balloon.”

Belle tossed back, “And have your mother turn me to stone when I come back and tell her you’re dead because you fell headfirst out of a balloon? Nope.”

“Oh, Belle, please?”

“No.”

George smiled. “Thank you, Belle. She wouldn’t listen to me.”

Jo shot him a quelling look, then declared, “Come on, Adam. I am seventeen years of age. I own my own business. I believe I am old enough to decide whether I can go up in a balloon or not.”

Adam said with a smile, “Attagirl! Belle, I take full responsibility.”

Belle drawled, “Remember that when you have to bring her lifeless body home to her mother.”

Libby took hold of Adam’s arm. “Adam, please don’t do this. You could be killed.”

Mr. Bordeaux countered easily, “Ballooning is safe, mademoiselle. Both the Union and the Confederate armies have been using them in the war to scout troop movements, and gather other intelligence. Nothing’s going to happen.”

George stepped in front of Jo and told her in no uncertain terms, “Josephine, you are not going up in that balloon. I forbid it!”

Jo raised an eyebrow. “Forbid? George, I’m going to assume your concern has made you irrational. I’ll see you when I come down.”

Upon hearing that, a triumphant Adam declared, “Mr. Bordeaux, you now have two willing passengers. What do we need to do?”

fourteen

When
word went through Mrs. Oswald’s glade that Josephine Best and Adam Morgan were going up in the balloon, everyone stopped whatever they were doing and came running. No one wanted to hear about it secondhand. They all wanted to boast that they’d seen the ascent with their own eyes.

Jo was too busy listening to Mr. Bordeaux’s instructions to notice how much of a commotion she and Adam were causing. The French Canadian told them both where to stand and what to do in case of an emergency. “Pray,” he said simply.

Jo didn’t know if she liked that answer, but since he claimed to have twenty years of experience, she hoped he knew what he was doing. Knowing that Adam was going settled her nerves. No matter the outcome she trusted him to remain levelheaded, and she knew he trusted her to do the same.

Braced on his stick, Adam stood beside her in the basket, and asked, “You ready?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Scared?”

“Terrified,” she confessed.

“Good. Fear will keep you alive. Had you said no, I would’ve called this whole thing off.”

“Are you scared?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

Their eyes met and held. Jo wanted to know how she was supposed to resist a young man willing to ride with her in a balloon. Unlike Belle and George, he’d trusted her to make up her own mind. Jo had spent the last few weeks trying to keep the door of her heart shut tight against Adam Morgan. Now, as the voices of the crowd rose and she and Adam were observing each other so silently, that door in her heart began to creak open once more. She decided that if she wanted to pretend that she and Adam were keeping company for the short time Mr. Bordeaux said they’d be aloft in the balloon, she would. Only her heart would know. When the balloon came back to earth, they could revert to their agreed-upon role of friends.

Speaking of friends, Jo could see George standing as close to the balloon as Mr. Bordeaux’s helpers would allow. He looked very put out; almost as put out as Libby standing beside him. Jo knew he was upset that she hadn’t paid any attention to his ordering her about, but she didn’t care; an opportunity such as this might never come again. Belle at least waved. Jo knew that if Daniel were here, he and Belle would be the next couple in line to ascend. In spite of Belle’s stance as a chaperone, she liked adventure almost as much as Jo.

The balloon was now ready to go. It had fattened up nicely from the hot air rising from the burner. According to Mr. Bordeaux, most balloon accidents occurred during the ascent because of gas fires, explosions and such, so as the anchor ropes were undone and the basket lifted free of the ground, Jo held her breath.

Soon, however, she was too overcome with excitement and awe to remember to be afraid. They were now rising into the air on the wind’s gentle currents. When Mr. Bordeaux increased the burner’s flame the balloon rose higher, when he decreased it it would descend, but Jo wasn’t paying any attention to that, either. The view was spectacular. Below the balloon, the trees stretched out like a magnificent green carpet, and the sky above was a beautiful crystal blue. Jo believed she could see to Canada if she only knew where to look. The steady wind and the warm sun felt good on her face. She looked over at Adam, who beamed back a grin. He seemed to be enjoying this just as much.

Jo saw the church pass below and then Trudy’s house! Jo couldn’t see anyone nearby on the ground, but she waved enthusiastically just the same. When she turned back and saw Adam was watching her, everything around Jo seemed to fade and disappear. The beating of her heart filled her ears. In an attempt to distract herself, she called out to him over the wind and the drone of the burner, “This is lovely, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” he replied, but he was looking at her and not at the view.

Jo’s heart began beating even harder; so much so, she forced herself to turn away and concentrate on the view, lest she shake into pieces.

As Adam watched Jo, he realized that all of the barriers he’d so carefully erected around his feelings for her were slowly melting away. How many young ladies were brave enough to sail above the countryside in a balloon? He knew of only one and her name was Josephine Best. She had fire, sparkle and, alas, his heart. Watching her enjoy this ride filled him with a happiness he wanted to feel for the rest of his life. Admitting that caught him by surprise. For a man bent upon picking as many different flowers as he could, he seemed to be fixated now on only one variety: the black-eyed Josephine.

The balloon sailed out of Whittaker and into nearby Ypsilanti. Jo couldn’t stop grinning. When they crossed the Huron River, she thought it looked like a fat brown ribbon snaking its way home. Jo had never done anything this exhilarating before. She wanted to sail on forever.

It was not to be. A short while later, Mr. Bordeaux announced, “It is time to set down, my friends.”

Jo didn’t veil her disappointment. “So soon?”

“Yes, mademoiselle. We don’t want to get too far away from where we began. As it is, we will have to wait for my men to reach us by wagon before we can ride back.”

Jo wanted to stomp like a petulant child, but didn’t. Doing so might fulfill Belle’s fear of Jo falling headfirst out of the basket, and Jo definitely didn’t want that to happen.

Adam was disappointed, as well. He’d been savoring both Jo’s company and the serene ride; he didn’t want to relinquish either, at least not yet.

A rope pulley was attached to a small flap at the very top of the balloon’s insides. The flap sealed a hole that could be opened and closed to vent the hot air and control the descent.

While Jo and Adam watched, Mr. Bordeaux doused the fire, then began to work the pulley. At first the passengers didn’t notice any change in the altitude, but as the ground below slowly became larger and larger, they knew their adventure had come to an end. Jo and Adam shared a sad smile.

They landed with a jolt that threw Jo into Adam. He caught her, then, bracing himself, held her close while the basket bumped its way across the hard, uneven ground before mercifully coming to a stop.

Mr. Bordeaux asked, “You two all right?”

Jo, still being held by Adam’s arms and eyes, murmured, “Yes.”

Adam responded just as softly, “I’m fine, as well.”

Mr. Bordeaux studied the two young people who seemed so mesmerized by each other, and chuckled. “Come, I must secure the balloon.”

Adam shook himself free from the spell of Jo’s nearness, and reluctantly stepped away from her. “Certainly, sir.”

The men helped Josephine out of the wicker basket. Adam offered to assist Mr. Bordeaux with the balloon but was turned down.

“I can do this with my eyes closed,” the balloonist replied. “Enjoy your lady’s company. As soon as the wagon arrives, we’ll get you home.”

Adam didn’t argue; he’d offered his help merely as a courtesy. In reality, his ankle was protesting all it had done today. He looked around for a place to sit so he could rest it for a bit.

Jo could see the slight wince that crossed Adam’s face each time he put his weight down on the still-healing ankle. She also found it hard to shake the way she felt hearing Mr. Bordeaux refer to her as Adam’s lady. “You’ve hurt yourself.”

“No. The ankle’s just a bit tired. If I can sit for a moment or two, I should be fine.”

Jo tried to mask her concern. “Then let’s head for that tree trunk over there.”

The downed trunk was old and weathered. Before sitting down on it, however, Jo gave it a quick visual inspection. Hornets and wasps liked to nest in old wood. Being stung in the bustle would certainly ruin a wonderful day.

Adam eased himself down beside her and let out a sigh of pure relief. He maybe shouldn’t have been so eager to make this trip, but if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be here with Jo. The verdant surroundings were quiet and still. Mr. Bordeaux was dismantling the balloon a few yards away.

Jo looked to Adam and said, “Thanks for coming along.”

“Thank you, as well. That was fun.”

Jo tried to forget the thrill of being held in his arms during the landing.

Adam tried to forget the thrill of holding her close enough to feel her heart beat.

They both failed.

Jo asked, “How long do you think it will take Mr. Bordeaux’s men to arrive?”

Adam shrugged. “He mentioned his men being somewhere close by so it probably won’t be a very long wait.”

In reality, Jo hoped it would take the men hours to arrive; that way she and Adam could spend more time together. “I’d love to do this again sometime before I get old.”

“Me, too.”

Even though Jo had known Adam Morgan most of her life, the idea that they were out here together in such a quiet, beautiful place with so much unsaid between them made it difficult for her to hold his gaze for any length of time. She was nervous as a newborn colt.

“Jo?”

She turned. “Yes?”

When he looked at her, the world seemed to stand still. Jo didn’t know if she was breathing or not. There was wonder and questions in his eyes, but she had no experience with which to answer.

He delicately stroked her cheekbone, then whispered, “Why did you have to grow up to be so beautiful?”

As he leaned closer, Jo’s breathing accelerated, then quickened more.
Oh, my goodness! He’s going to kiss me!

And he did. He touched his lips to hers, closing her eyes and making her whole being sparkle. She’d had no idea a real kiss would be this marvelous. When he moved his hand up and gently cupped the back of her head, the kiss deepened, sending myriad wonderful new emotions rushing through Jo with such sweet force, she drew away from his lips in order to catch her breath. It took her a moment to find speech. “Adam—I—” Words failed her.

Adam had been moved by the short, sweet kiss, as well. He truly hadn’t intended to kiss her, but she drew him in, in spite of his good intentions. “I’m sorry, Jo. That shouldn’t have happened.”

Jo finally recovered her ability to speak. “You don’t have to apologize. I…could have stopped you.”

Their eyes met. Unable to resist her, Adam said softly, “One more then…”

He leaned over and kissed her again, gently, potently. Jo began to spin. She was so outside of herself she couldn’t tell whether she was sitting up or sitting down. “Oh my…”

“George hasn’t kissed you, has he?”

“Of course not. George is a gentleman.”

“And I’m not?” he asked, smiling.

She grinned. “No. What you are is trouble.”

He picked up her hand and pressed it to his lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Jo thought he was at his charming best. “You are far too handsome for your own good.”

“And you’re too beautiful for yours. I want to court you, Josephine Best.”

Jo searched his eyes for the joke. “Adam, that isn’t necessary.”

“It’s very necessary. Shall I tell George, or will you?”

“Tell George what?”

“That he can find another hairdresser to be with. Your dance card is filled.”

Jo thought he was being a bit presumptuous. “Adam, I’m not going to send George packing just because you kissed me.” Even though thinking about it still made her tingle inside, and even though she had already decided to tell George the truth.

Adam knew what he wanted and was tired of fighting it. He tried again. “Maybe you didn’t understand me, Jo. I’m done picking flowers.”

“You say that now, but what about tomorrow?”

Adam stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. “Jo, are you turning me down?”

His incredulous tone made her chuckle. “I’m not sure, but I do know you well enough that I’m not going to hold you to anything you might say while we’re here.”

“You don’t believe me.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Frankly, no. Charming ladies is in your nature, Adam. I know it. You know it. What about Libby Spenser?”

“She’s spent all afternoon trying to mine information about how well fixed I am.”

Jo chuckled. “That’s what you get for being drawn to beauty and not brains.” She then said more seriously, “So, like I said, I’m not taking you seriously, but thank you for my first kiss. I’ll always remember it. Always.”

Adam tried again. “Jojo—”

Jo interrupted him with a gentled voice, “Adam, look. I’m a regular girl, and in spite of what you keep professing, I know I’m not beautiful, but I do have my pride. I refuse to turn my heart over to you just so you can add it to your trophy case.”

Adam was not taking this well. He had all but declared for her, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him? For a young man accustomed to having young ladies jump at his beck and call, this was a truly novel and, yes, humbling experience. Adam realized he could either be angry and turn his back on his feelings for her, or he could try and win her over. The latter was certainly more appealing and had the potential to be the most fun, so he set aside his bruised pride, and asked, “All right. What do I have to do to prove my feelings are sincere? Shall I spout Shakespeare under your window at dawn? Slay a dragon? What?”

“You—”

“Shall I bring you violets every morning, or shall I simply kiss you until you agree—?”

Jo blinked. Her heart began thumping with the speed of a runaway locomotive.

He vowed then, “You will be mine, Josephine Best—be it now or two years from now, but you will be mine.”

That said, he got up to greet the men in the wagon who were just now coming over the hill.

Jo was so stunned by his verbal challenge, she sat frozen for a moment with her hand over her mouth, then she laughed.

The ride back to Mrs. Oswald’s in the back of the balloonist’s wagon took nearly three-quarters of an hour, and by that time the only people still in the grove were Belle, George and Libby Spenser.

Belle hastily approached the wagon. “My goodness, you two had me worried.”

“We didn’t mean to worry you,” Jo replied, “but, Belle, it was marvelous. The next time Mr. Bordeaux comes to visit, you will have to go for a ride. The view was breathtaking.”

Adam added, “My apologies, as well. We had to wait for his wagon to find us so we could ride back.”